Panzer x Marionette
by asomyrcal
Summary: Complete: Series - Between them, there had always been something.
1. Made of Steel

**Title**: Panzer x Marionette  
**Fandom**: Trinity Blood  
**Pairing**(s): Implied  
**Synopsis**: A series of short drabbles from a meme.

**1) Our Lady Peace - Made of Steel  
**"Anything?" he said. A smirk curled the younger man's lips. "You should be careful what you say, magician." Gloved hands looped around the mage's neck, almost casually. The dark-haired magician merely smiled.

"You hide too many secrets."

Fingers tipped Dietrich's chin up. "You're not made of steel either, puppetmaster." Those gloved fingers traced against the puppetmaster's lips, rough cloth against soft skin.

"Is that a threat, mage?"

"You should know to keep secrets, Dietrich."

Lips were pressed against the younger man's lips, and the puppetmaster smirked, arms slipping around Isaak's neck.


	2. Carmina Burana O Fortuna

**2) Choir and Orchestra of the German Opera, Berlin U Eugen Jochum - 'Carmina Burana' - O Fortuna **  
There it was again, a familiar ringing of the organ's sorrowful tone. He did not understand the reasoning behind why the mage loved such melancholic tone. He glanced up from a book that had been balanced between his fingers for as long as he had been here, studying the etched metal and faded copper, from the pipes which reached towards a ceiling he could barely fathom to the lone figure at the base of the gargantuan weapon, infinitely small against the vastness of the weapon he had created.

As if knowing his protege's thoughts, the mage glanced around, sparing the puppetmaster the briefest of glances.

"Any weapon requires fine tuning, Dietrich."

White-gloved fingers pressed down against ivory white and ebony black, a clash of notes drowning out the puppetmaster's voice.


	3. Kryptonite

**3) 3 Doors Down - Kryptonite **  
Sometimes he would remain there for ages, looking off into the distance, staring at nothing in particular. Remembering old times, memories both good and bad.

Dark eyes narrowed, the setting's sun light swallowed in those abyssal depths. A light breeze stirred his hair and coat, a soft rustle breaking the barely heard hustle and bustle of the streets below.

Behind him, the creak of boots on old wooden stairs gave away the presence of his younger protege.

"You should know better than to follow me." The mage did not even turn around. A lighter flared, lighting a cigar held deftly between gloved fingers.

"I was concerned."

"Concern from a poisonous snake means nothing, Dietrich. And you, my dear puppetmaster, are a serpent far more poisonous than all the snakes put together."


	4. Malchik Gay

**4) t.A.T.u - Malchik Gay**  
Teeth nipped at bare, exposed skin, pulling a smaller, lithe body nearer towards him. They were a mess, a tangle of limbs sprawled in soft satin, breathing heavily.

He was poison and ice, the body that lay in his arms, the mage reflected as he took a long drag on a cigar. The longer he was with him, the more poisoned he would become, but perhaps, the mage's lips curled into a slight smirk, he was already immune.


	5. Sleep Tight

**5) Celine Dion - Sleep Tight**  
Eyes watched a sleeping figure. Fingers reached up and removed a lit cigarette from between his lips, exhaling a stream of dark smoke. At the same time, his other hand all too gently brushed a stray strang of hair away from Dietrich's closed eyes.

"Sleep well, puppetmaster. When you wake, you'll be facing hell."

His words were barely audible, and as malicious as they should sound, they weren't. The black haired mage rose and left the room without another word.


	6. The Last Sunrise

**9) Aiden - The Last Sunrise  
**He took slow, quiet steps through a darkened alley, the sun's bloody rays illuminating his back, but yet not far enough to show his face, brown strands gently caressing pale skin, obscuring muddied hazel.

"Are you scared, puppetmaster?"

The mage looked at the still young child at his side, studying the boy's figure, confident, almost defiant.

"At sunrise we will leave."


	7. Vamo Alla Flamenco

**4) The Black Mages - Vamo Alla Flamenco**  
The setting sun. Long shadows, cast against somewhat dilapidated walls. An amber-red glow that dyed brown a strange shade of auburn-red, almost unnatural.

But yet it changed nothing on the mage.

"Even the sun doesn't change you."

"The sun did not change for thousands of years, and there should be no reason why it should be able to change me." The reply was so smoothly returned that for a moment, his counterpart did not know what to say.  
A smirk curled the mage's lips. He had won this battle.


	8. God of Wine

**8) Third Eye Blind - God Of Wine**  
Isaak lifted a glass of wine to his lips, eyes studying a certain brown-haired puppetmaster. Of which, said person was perched on his desk, looking rather as if he was innocently reading, of which action Isaak seriously doubted that that boy was even looking at the book.

The glass was set down on the table with barely an audible sound. What was audible however, was Dietrich's muffled supposed protests as Isaak grasped his tie, yanking him down from the table and crushing his lips against his. There was a brief struggle, but the youth soon went still, Isaak's arms holding him firmly in place.

A trickle of wine-red slipped from the corners of the puppetmaster's mouth.

Pulling away moments later, Dietrich reached up, wiping the wine away from his mouth, smirking.


	9. Harder to Breathe

**9) Maroon 5 - Harder to Breathe**  
"Unacceptable." His words were cold, sharp ice, stabbing straight at the puppetmaster. Fingers reached out, curling around Dietrich's neck and tightening his grip. The puppetmaster's eyes widened slightly.

"I do not tolerate failure, Dietrich." The grip on the puppetmaster's throat tightened even further. It was getting harder for the young man to breathe, his fingers tugging almost futilely at the mage's vise-like grip. "You know the punishment for failure."

Lips were pressed closed to the captive puppetmaster's ear. "You never listened. You asked for it, Dietrich."

It was getting harder to breathe, he could not get any air into his tortured, struggling lungs, and his vision was starting to haze up. Even Isaak's words were barely audible.

A murmur slipped out of his lips.

Whatever was that he had said, the mage had apparently heard it, and smirked, letting go of the puppetmaster, watching as the puppetmaster slumped to the ground.


	10. Passive

**8 ) A Perfect Circle - Passive  
**He lay in a pool of blood, a sleeping angel dyed crimson. Not the way any one of them had imagined. There was no movement, almost as if there were no glimmer of life in the fallen angel sprawled lifelessly on the ground.

Then there was soft, silent click.

Over him hovered a black-robed figure, flowing darkness in the form of a dark-haired mage. Ebony eyes narrowed, fingers extricating themselves from the encasing white glove as he knelt in the sea of crimson, gently caressing a bloodstained cheek, leaving crimson streaks against pale ivory skin.

"Wake up."

What was soft echoed almost obscenely loudly in the almost empty hall. Amidst broken glass and shattered consoles, they were the only two, the one who was truly alive lying lifeless, his counterpart whose longeveity was not truly organic taking breaths he did not need to survive.

There was no response.

Fingers grasped the puppetmaster's chin gently, forcing that lifeless body to look at him. All the blood had drained out of his face, the boy was horribly pale. There was a limpness to his sprawled frame that Isaak did not like.

It was no secret, the mage knew what had transpired. His fingers let go of Dietrich's chin, letting the boy's head thud against the floor none too gently. Gentleness was not something Isaak indulged in, especially not to those who were gone.

"You disappointed him, Dietrich."

His tone was almost callous, but that which was not said in his cruel, hardhearted words were in his actions, as the mage picked up his deathly pale protege and vanished.


End file.
